Page 27 of Pucked On Camera

"What the fuck is it to you? Why do you care?" Riley counters, leaning forward to stare my brother down. "I wouldn't do that to her. I care about her. "

His words are almost desperate, and they swirl around me while the cheers of the crowd are oblivious to the drama unfolding off-ice. The naked truth in Riley's eyes sends a shudder through me.

Care about me? The thought lingers, but it's overshadowed by a bigger question. What photos are they talking about?

My fingers tremble as I pull out my phone, the screen lighting up to a barrage of notifications. I swipe through them frantically.

"Shit," I mutter, my breath catching as I finally see. There they are—my photos, unedited and glaringly honest, splashed across different hockey fan accounts. There’s an image from my OnlyFans account paired next to a photo of me in my Blades work uniform. Then the others are of raw footage that’s revealing a side of me not even Riley has seen.

This is my secret, but also my escape from the suffocating expectations and the shadow cast by my brother’s legacy. Now though, it's out there for all the world to see.

The images on my screen blur as I realize the posts are set to public; Amelia Brooks, the sister of a Michigan Vikings hockey star, Chicago Blades staff member, and the mystery girl behind the provocative OnlyFans account, one and the same. My stomach churns, bile rising in my throat as I grasp the magnitude of what's just happened.

"Dear Lord," I whisper to myself. It feels like I'm suddenly standing at center ice, naked under the harsh spotlight with nowhere to hide.

My fingers tremble as they clutch the phone. I feel eyes on me, or maybe it's just the paranoia creeping up my spine. The noise around me is laced with whispers and judgements that I can almost hear, though the crowd is focused on the game. The heat of embarrassment is burning me up.

"Because she's my sister, asshole. No one messes with her." My brother’s confession hangs between them. "I've been cleaning up after the punks who think they can pick on her all of our life. So when I heard she's seeing you, and then suddenly her life’s plastered all over the internet? You bet I'm pissed."

"Your sister?" Riley echoes, his voice ricocheting off the plexiglass, disbelief etched into every syllable.

I'm frozen, the revelation that my brother – my twin – has been my silent guardian angel crashes into me. He's been fighting battles I never knew existed, defending me in the shadows while I blindly believed in the security of my double life.

"Look, I didn't post anything about her. I wouldn't." Riley's defense.

Their voices fade as my heart pounds against my chest, echoing the slam of hockey sticks and skates carving lines in the ice. The only thing louder is the blood rushing in my ears from mortification.

I've been outed. The truth hits hard, and I can't breathe, can't think, can't stay here a moment longer.

I can barely feel my legs moving from the shock, making my way to the aisle.

"Amelia, wait!" Riley yells as I come face to face with the penalty boxes in order to climb the stairs to get out of here. Although, Ican't look at him, can't face those piercing blue eyes that always seem to see too much.

"Please," he continues, his words laced with urgency, "I never told anyone about us—about you."

His denial ricochets off the walls of my skull. It's too late. The damage is done, images of me laid bare for the world to scrutinize. His protests feel empty, even if they're not. I don't know what to believe anymore.

"Save it, Riley," I spit back. My pulse throbs in my temples as I shove past bodies, past the smell of spilled beer and fried food until I'm out the doors.

Chapter 16

Riley

I'm standing there, in the Sin Bin, gear sticking to me like a second skin, with the feeling that the floor beneath my feet just cracked wide open. All the noise from around the rink fades away as I process these two bombshells that have just been thrown at me.

"Say that again?" I demand, though I heard him loud and clear the first time.

Across from me, he stands on the other side of the plexiglass, with the same set of striking eyes I've seen looking back at Amelia– except his are framed by a furrowed brow. "Amelia is my twin sister," he repeats with a steady and challenging tone.

My jaw clenches, a rush of blood pounding in my ears. It's not just the rivalry that has defined our seasons; it's deeper than that. Now, knowing Amelia's connection to this guy—my on-ice nemesis—it feels like I've been body-checked into the boards without my padding.

"Twins?" I echo, my brain completely scrambled. How did I not see it? They're identical in so many ways. The shape of their faces and those piercing eyes… Yet, they are so different in demeanor. Amelia always seemed like a puzzle. I tried to place the pieces together, but couldn’t no matter how hard I tried. Now this. Her brother. Here.

"Never pegged you for being slow on the uptake, Watson," he sneers, and I want to throw a punch, to wipe that smugness off his face. I can’t though. I’ve already cost us two minutes.

***

I'm pacing the length of my apartment, phone in hand, with a nagging feeling that's been clawing at my gut since those photos leaked. The ones that everyone thinks I spread around. My fingers hover over Amelia's contact. I take a final deep breath and press call.

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